When? by J. Link

I’m always waiting. 
for recess, 
for Grandpa to take me to the C.A.P. canal, 
the carp to bite, 
For football practice, 
the game on Saturday morning, 
the snap, the throw, the ball to stay in my hands. 
For 6th grade, junior high, high school. 
For my leg bones to heal, 
to relearn to walk, to run. 
For my dealer, the magic 
to race in tunnels beneath my skin. 
For my next court date, 
the pepper spray to subside. 
           For the sun to set.
          For thirty-two years to pass. 
For my life to begin 
and the pain to stop.
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